


Cooking Magic

by Tiffany_Park



Series: Tales from Seresu [3]
Category: Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle
Genre: Fluff, Follows "Choosing Priorities", Gen, Humor, Prequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-28
Updated: 2012-12-15
Packaged: 2017-11-19 17:47:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/575950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tiffany_Park/pseuds/Tiffany_Park
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Little Fai wants to learn to cook, but still has a few problems with controlling his magic...  (Follows "Choosing Priorities")</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

TITLE:  Cooking Magic

AUTHOR:  Tiffany Park

CATEGORY:  Humor, Some Angst, Prequel, Side story for "Choosing Priorities." 

SERIES: The series is still untitled. The stories should be read in the following order: "Embracing Destiny," "Choosing Priorities," "Cooking Magic," "Like Sunshine." "The Siren Call and Many Complications of Chocolate Mousse Cake" and "The Further Complications of Chocolate Mousse Cake" can be viewed as side stories to this series. Fai is 10 in them, so they follow "Like Sunshine."

SPOILERS:  Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle Chapitres 150 through 172.  Follows "Choosing Priorities."

RATING:  G

CONTENT WARNINGS:  None.

SUMMARY:  Little Fai wants to learn to cook, but still has a few problems with controlling his magic...

STATUS:  Complete

ARCHIVE:  Please ask first

DISCLAIMER:  Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle and its characters belong to CLAMP, Del Rey Ballantine Books, Random House Inc., Kodansha Ltd., Funimation, and probably a whole bunch of other people and companies I know nothing about.  This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands.  No copyright infringement is intended.  The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author.  This story may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author.

AUTHOR'S NOTES:  This story occurs shortly after the end of "Choosing Priorities."  It was originally intended to be a light little fluffy-fic that could be read as a standalone, but naturally it grew larger and became tied in with the "Choosing Priorities" storyline, and even furthered it a little.  There are a number of references to events from both "Choosing Priorities" and "Embracing Destiny."  They probably won't make sense to anyone who hasn't read those stories, since explaining them would have taken too much focus away from this story's plot (such as it is).  I didn't originally plan to include any angst or serious plot developments in this story, but that goal seems impossible for me when writing about Fai and Ashura.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Cooking Magic**

By

Tiffany Park

 

"You want to learn to cook?"  Baffled, Ashura stared at his foster son.  Big, guileless blue eyes gazed back, lit with hope.  Ashura quailed at the beseeching expression on Fai's upturned little face.

"Fai, you can have any food you want, whenever you want," Ashura said.  "All you have to do is ask the servants to bring it to you.  You don't need to learn how to make the dishes yourself.  It's...it's..."  He almost said, "It's beneath you," but caught himself just in time.  Fai was insecure enough about all manner of things.  Ashura was trying to build up Fai's confidence in himself, and saying something that clumsy would hardly be productive in that endeavor.  There was no need to make Fai feel afraid of asking to learn a new skill, even if it was one that was totally unsuitable for a little prince.

Fai didn't notice Ashura's hesitation.  "It's not the same.  I need to know how to do it myself."

"Why?"  Ashura couldn't fathom it.  He wondered why Fai wanted to learn something so pedestrian…so common…as cooking.  He doubted Fai would ever be so interested in learning, say, laundry, sewing, or scullery skills, and from Ashura's perspective those menial jobs were comparable with cooking.

The child already had his arguments marshaled.  "You and Lord Suhail say it's still too early for me to learn to make potions and stuff, right?  Because I might blow something up, right?"

"Yes," Ashura confirmed.  There was a great deal of truth in that statement.  Not just because Fai still had trouble controlling his immense magic, but also simply because a child as young as Fai really couldn't be trusted with the dangerous substances required for many magical potions, such as wormwood and mandrake and foxglove.  Maybe if Fai were really that interested in the subject, he could be taught to make some simple hearth-magic tisanes using ordinary, _safe_ herbs, like, say, chamomile or mint...

"So, cooking's a lot like making elixirs and tinctures and stuff, right?  Except without using magic," Fai said eagerly.  "It's just like alchemy.  You still have to measure and mix powders and liquids, and heat them, and shape them, and you get a new result that's different and better than the original ingredients—"

Alchemy.  Ashura froze with alarm.  Fai wanted to learn alchemy?  So young?  It was Ashura's worst nightmare come true.  He almost shivered at the idea of Fai in an alchemy laboratory.  It would be utterly irresponsible to allow any child to handle substances like quicksilver and aqua regia, let alone Fai, with his enormous power and lack of training...and the mere thought of what Fai could do with Flowers of Sulphur, Dragon's Blood, and Astrum Solis made Ashura's blood run cold.

With single-minded determination, Fai continued to make his case.  "So, baking a cake or preparing a custard requires the same kinds of skills, right?  Everything has to be measured and mixed just right, and heated for the correct amount of time, and cooled and finished in certain ways.  The cooks have told me before that creating desserts is a very precise art, and it sounds a lot like alchemy, and—"

Ashura held up a hand.  "I get the idea."

Fai's enthusiasm was certainly unexpected.  He was fascinated by all aspects of magic, true, but he was still working on the basics.  And alchemy...alchemy was _always_ restricted to more mature, experienced magicians.  It wasn't something that Ashura wanted to encourage while Fai was still so young.  Mastery of that art was not simply a matter of mixing random substances together to see what resulted.  That was either a waste of time or horribly dangerous, even lethal.  Alchemy also involved a great many mathematical calculations and precise, painstaking measurements.  Indeed, this new interest was rather bizarre, as Fai disliked his lessons in mathematics a great deal and often tried to avoid them.

"Anyway," Fai went on, oblivious to his audience's alarm and bewilderment, "I thought cooking would be, like, good practice for alchemy, you know?  And I could make really yummy food, too, so it wouldn't be a waste of time, right?  So even if I can't make potions and tinctures yet, I can make desserts and soups and roasts and breads and stuff.  Those things are really important."

"Well, yes, they are, but why..."  Ashura stopped and stared at his child with sudden comprehension.

"Food is really important," Fai added quietly, but Ashura didn't need any further explanations.

Food.

No, alchemy was not the true motivation here.  It was just the excuse.

"Maybe it's even more important than magic," Fai said.  "And a lot of the techniques are the same..."  He rattled on, again outlining his argument about the similarities between magic and cooking.

Ashura realized that he probably should have seen this coming.  Since his arrival in Seresu, Fai had been enthusiastic about trying different foods.  It wasn't surprising that he wanted to know how to prepare them, too.  A child with Fai's history and insecurities would covet that knowledge in case he had to fend for himself.

On some level, Fai would probably always worry that he might not really be wanted, that he couldn't trust that he'd ever really have a real home, no matter where he went.

It all seemed a natural result of the child's past.  Ashura's guts clenched as he unhappily recalled the starved, bedraggled, and terrorized waif he had taken from that horrific, death-filled pit in Valeria.  For much of his young life, Fai had been the victim of monstrous deprivation:  of clothing, food, warmth, kindness, stability and security, love—all the creature comforts required by human beings and taken for granted by most.  He absorbed it all like a sponge, and sometimes it seemed like he could never get enough.

Ashura hoped that someday that sad desperation of Fai's would pass.

His argument made, Fai stopped talking and waited politely.  That sweet little face blinked up at Ashura, and the child's eyes seemed to get even wider and bluer.  Ruefully, Ashura admitted to himself that he always caved in when Fai aimed those particularly devastating weapons at him...

There wasn't any real reason to deny the child, was there?  Fai would pick up a few rudimentary basics of cooking sooner or later, anyway.  In his youth, Ashura had grudgingly learned some rough and ready cooking techniques.  They had been useful in military camps, or as part of the normal social experience of a successful hunt.  He could boil vegetables to mush, and roast an animal or bird carcass over a fire, or even make a simple stew...and usually not ruin the meal.  At least, not too badly.

However, in Luval Castle, or any other residence for that matter, Ashura had never even made his own tea, let alone any kind of elaborate dish.  And after he had become king, others always performed meal preparation and other basic maintenance services, even out in the field.

In time, Fai would acquire the same kind of rustic cooking techniques as part of his experiences with growing up, but he hardly needed to learn to prepare fine palace cuisine.  Yet, despite the fact that princes really had no place in the kitchens, that seemed to be what he wanted—at least, it was right now, though he might lose interest when he discovered it was hard work.

Forbidden fruit was always the most desirable.  Besides, the work might be ill-suited to a prince, but Fai's future life was going to be anything but typical.  He would one day leave Seresu to travel across worlds.  Ashura thought about that future, and wondered how Fai might explain to his travelling companions just how and why someone of his elevated station knew advanced and sophisticated culinary techniques that could only have been mastered through extensive instruction and long practice.  It really wasn't the sort of thing most princes knew much about.  Would he use that same thin excuse about magic and cooking being the same?  Well, Ashura acknowledged, there were similarities, as Fai himself had just pointed out, but they really didn't go as far as Fai had claimed.  Then again, a non-magician probably wouldn't understand the fundamental differences, so that explanation could pass muster.

Besides, on that future journey, elaborate cooking skills might well turn out to be useful for Fai.  Ashura couldn't imagine how, though.  Traveling from world to world was unlikely to require more than a simple knowledge of the basics, which would be more than enough to keep him and his future friends from starving.

But really, who knew what abilities Fai would one day require?  He should be allowed to spread his wings and fly where he willed.  Anything he chose to learn might turn out to be of immense consequence.  His very existence was destined for great things, much greater than anything in Ashura's small life, which would always be tied to Seresu.  Then Ashura smiled at the foolishness of his own self-deprecation.  He was raising a child who would one day save all of existence.  There could be no greater calling for him than Fai's welfare.

Fai would need to be adaptable for that journey, not forever mired in the rigid confines of court and royal protocol.  Any interest of his was potentially useful, even necessary, and should be encouraged.

And really, when you got right down to it, where was the harm?

On the heels of that thought, Ashura winced inwardly.  Every time he'd thought the words "where was the harm?" with regards to something Fai wanted, they usually came back to bite him in some way or another.  He was very careful to hide his sudden dismay from Fai.

"I suppose it would be all right for you to learn," he allowed cautiously.  "Say, once a week so it doesn't disrupt your other lessons?"

Despite the lack of a smile, Fai's face brightened like a glorious spring sunrise.  "Oh, thank you!" he gushed.  "I'll become the best cook ever!  You'll see!"

Ashura nodded.  "I'm certain you will."  And I hope the cooking staff can handle what's coming their way, he added mentally.


	3. Chapter 3

The kitchens at Luval Castle never slept.

They were always busy.  Every day, the staff bustled and rushed about, chopping vegetables and slicing fruits, roasting meats and roots, baking breads and cakes and pies, making soups and stews, and a myriad of other food-related tasks.  There was also cheese and butter making, and preparations of comfits and jams and pickles and other preserves.  Those members of the kitchen staff who weren't cooks would constantly clean everything from the floors to the workbenches to the ceilings, tend the fires and ovens, maintain all supplies, keep accounts—far, far more activities than Fai had ever really considered before as requirements for cooking.

All this was necessary to prepare meals to feed the hundreds of people who lived and worked in Luval Castle, the servants and guards and all else who kept the castle running smoothly.  Special dishes beyond the regular meals were prepared for the royal family, nobles, and court wizards.

But the addition of one little princeling nearly brought everything to a screeching halt.

King Ashura stood with Fai in the middle of the main kitchen area and calmly explained what was required.  The kitchen staff gaped, shock written over every last one of their faces, but no one uttered a word of protest.

Fai squirmed a little.  This wasn't going the way he had imagined, not at all.

"So," the king ordered, "you will instruct Lord Fai in the art of cooking.  Keep the tasks simple in accordance with his age and skill levels, and everything will work out fine.  I trust this won't be too disruptive?  He can start out as someone's assistant, or even just as an observer."

Master Otso, the head cook, gulped visibly, but gamely said, "We will, of course, obey Your Majesty's wishes.  I'm certain Lord Fai will do well here."

"Good."  King Ashura looked down, met Fai's eyes and held them with a no-nonsense gaze.  "Fai, I expect you to obey your instructors here just as you would your other tutors.  Is that understood?  You must behave, or you will not be permitted into the kitchens again.  They are critical to the smooth functioning of all aspects of the castle, and I cannot permit them to become too disordered."

"Yes, sir," Fai replied, a trifle intimidated.  He'd never thought of the kitchens that way before.  But the cooks here fed everyone in the castle.  He realized that the court and all the castlefolk could not do without them, just like they couldn't do without the guards, or the armory, or the apothecaries, or...or everything, really.  It all fit together like a small city, and no one could really survive here without all the others.  It put his desire to cook into a whole new perspective.  "I...I won't ruin things.  I'll be extra good, I promise."

Then King Ashura smiled, and gently caressed Fai's cheek.  "I'm certain you will.  Everything will be fine as long as you listen to your teachers."

Then the king cocked his head to one side, and Fai felt a thread of magic that indicated the king was receiving a private message from one of the wizards.  Fai wasn't able to tell which one was talking to King Ashura, but the message must have been important, because the king listened for a while and didn't cut it short.

Fai sensed it when the magical communication link winked out.  King Ashura blinked and refocused on the here and now.

"I had planned to remain for a time while you settled in, Fai, but I'm afraid I have some business to attend to," the king said.

Fai felt a little chill go through him.  "Is it Arimaspea?" he asked softly.  "Is there really going to be a war?"  Fai often eavesdropped on the adult conversations at the court.  He knew tensions were rising with the unfriendly kingdom on Seresu's southern border.  After the bad things that had happened not so long ago, the hostilities between Seresu and Arimaspea were increasing rapidly.  So far, two of the king's most powerful vassals, the Lord of the Southlands and the Lord of Pohjola, were handling matters.  The king hadn't gone down there in person, not yet, but Fai knew from his time in Valeria's royal court that that state of affairs wouldn't last.  It never did last when entire kingdoms went to war.  Kings were always expected to lead armies.

He hoped it wouldn't come to open warfare, even though the Arimaspi had hurt him and King Ashura really bad.  He hated the Arimaspi for that, and wouldn't mind revenge, but he didn't want King Ashura to go to war.  People died in wars, even kings...

"It is fine, Fai, just some logistics to take care of.  There is nothing for you to worry about," King Ashura reassured him.  "Be a good child, now."  His gaze took in the entire staff.  "I'll be back in a little while to check on things," he said pointedly.

"Yes, sir," Fai dutifully replied, while the rest of the staff bowed and curtseyed.  Fai relaxed again.  The king wouldn't have said he'd return to the kitchens if he were going to the border today.  That would not be practical, even with translocation magic.  King Ashura would stay safe for a little while longer.

It wouldn't be hard for Fai to obey the king's injunction to be good.  Fai was always polite to his tutors, no matter what.  He was even polite to his mathematics tutor.  Cooking classes would be lots better that the dreaded lessons in sums.  He wanted to learn to cook, and since he now understood how important the cooks were, he would make certain to be on his best behavior.

Satisfied, the king exited the kitchens.  Fai saw him pause to speak with a guard just outside the doorway.  The guard didn't come in or otherwise impose, but rather faded back, out of sight.  Fai assumed the guard was stationed outside the kitchens in case there was some problem.  Ever since the bad trouble with the Arimaspi in the Southlands, King Ashura had increased the security around Fai.  Fai had grown accustomed to having a guard shadow his every move to protect him, but rather hoped the cooks hadn't noticed.  He resolved not to create any problems that might cause the guard to intervene.  That would be really embarrassing.

There was an almost explosive sigh of relief from Master Otso when the king was gone.  A few of the lesser staff members looked pale.  Fai almost quailed as every eye in the kitchen focused on him.

"What do we do?" a saucier asked nervously.  "I've never instructed a prince before."  He spoke very quietly, but Fai still heard.

"What if the little lord gets upset?" another cook murmured.  "What will the king do?  Will he punish us?  He's so attached to the child..."

"Oh, he wouldn't be that unreasonable, would he?  He told us to teach the little one..."

It hadn't ever occurred to Fai that the cooks might be afraid to teach him.  He knew they were intimidated by the king—almost all the common folk were, at least a little, as well as many of the nobles—but the cooks were always so nice when Fai showed up unannounced.  They gave him treats and watched over him.  But this was different, wasn't it?  Now they had to tell him what to do, and that wasn't the usual order of things in a royal castle.  Fai remembered how King Ashura's young niece, Lady Mielu, had once said that she wasn't allowed to learn about cooking because it was "servant's work."

All Fai's regular tutors came from the aristocracy and had spent much time in the court, so they weren't afraid of him.  But the kitchen staff were all common folk.  Most of the time, they only dealt with the upper classes when receiving instructions and serving their special creations.  And now, they had to teach him, a foreign prince, the king's ward, someone who had no business working in the kitchens...

He was already ruining everything, wasn't he?  Even though he had promised he wouldn't, he was ruining everything just by being here, asking for something out of the ordinary.  Now the cooks wouldn't want him around, not ever, not even for a regular visit.  All he wanted to do was learn how to make food!  Why was his life always so complicated?  Things were so different here in Seresu than they'd been in Valeria, life was always so much better, but now he was spoiling it all just because he wanted to learn to do something "common."

No wonder King Ashura had been so surprised by this request.  But he hadn't said anything discouraging.  He'd gone along with it, and had even told the kitchen staff to teach Fai.  Why had the king done all that if it wasn't going to work out?

Maybe he just hadn't realized the kitchen staff would be scared.  He didn't seem to really pay attention to those sorts of things.  It was normal for lots of people to be a little nervous around him, so he always just ignored it.  But Fai couldn't ignore it.  He couldn't.

"It's okay," Fai said, trying not to cry with disappointment.  "I promised the king I'd do what you say.  I won't make trouble for you, no matter what.  I promise.  I know you have to boss me around to teach me, just like my other tutors.  The king said so.  No one will get mad."

He had to convince them it would be all right, so they wouldn't make him go away.  But they were all looking at him so strangely now, and whispering among themselves.  Fai sniffled, trying to remind himself that this was just one little thing, that it didn't really matter if he learned to cook or not.

"Be quiet, you silly geese," a buxom, middle-aged woman spoke up.  "You're upsetting the poor thing.  The king has already said it's fine to teach him."  She gave Fai a kindly look.  "Don't worry, little lord.  You can come and watch me work.  I'm Mistress Bera."

"I didn't mean to cause any trouble," Fai said.

"You didn't, sweetling," she said.  "Everyone is just a little surprised by this, so they aren't thinking and are behaving very badly.  They'll get over it.  None of us can understand why the king wants you to learn kitchen skills."

Fai scuffed his toe on the rough stone floor.  "I don't think he really does, even though he said it was all right," he admitted.  "I wanted to learn, so I asked him.  I think he was surprised, too."

She chuckled.  "Yes, I'm sure he was.  Well, it hardly signifies now.  Let's get you started on some simple tasks, then."  She inspected him from head to toe.  "The first thing to do is to put an apron on you.  Else those fine clothes will be ruined, and that would be a terrible shame."

Fai looked down at himself, at the embroideries and fur trim on his soft woolen tunic.  He'd gotten better clothes dirty and no one had complained before.  But now he looked around and realized he was dressed too well, especially compared to the simpler garments of the cooks.  And even though their clothes weren't as fancy as his, and made of lower quality materials, they still wore aprons or other covers to protect themselves from soil.

As the others realized that Mistress Bera's easy manner with Fai was bringing neither thundering denunciations nor threats of horrific punishment into their domain, they relaxed and started to help out.  An apprentice brought over a small apron.  "I think this will fit him," the boy said.

Mistress Bera nodded.  "Yes, that one is for the very young apprentices," she said with approval.  She quickly slipped it onto Fai and secured it.  It was only a little too large for him, and she cinched it up so it didn't hang too loosely.  "There, little lord, now you're all set to get started."

"Thank you," Fai said, smoothing down a few wrinkles in the apron.  It contrasted sharply with his current clothes.  Although the apron was clean and kept mended, its coarse fabric reminded him a little of the prisoner's tunic he'd worn while he had been imprisoned in the pit in Valeria.  Those weren't good memories, and he felt himself droop a bit on the inside.

Mistress Bera said, "I'm one of the pastry chefs, so you'll be working on some sweets with me.  Does that sound like something you want to learn?"

They would be making sweets?  Fai loved sweets.  He perked up at that promise.  "That would be great!" he gushed.

"I see you have him well in hand, so I shall leave everything to you," Master Otso said to Mistress Bera.  "You're excused from your regular duties for today, and can work on something simple, like sugared fruit or some easy finger cakes.  That would be perfect for a child his age, I think, and hold his attention, too."

She gave him a knowing look.  "I believe this one will quickly want to see how a more elaborate dish is created."

Fai nodded.  "Like those great big dessert sculptures!" he enthused.  "I love those.  I remember at the last feast, there was one made of pastry shaped like a castle, with colored sugar statues that looked like guards, and it had a honey moat filled with tiny violets to make the honey look like blue water, and it was full of cake and candied fruit and the most delicious custard."

"Those are called subtleties," Mistress Bera said, "and they are very complex and time-consuming to make.  A whole team of pastry chefs is needed to construct one."

"Yes!  I want to learn how to make something like that!"  Oh, he would _love_ to help make something huge and beautiful like those subtleties!  King Ashura would be so proud of him!

"Maybe later.  We won't need to make anything like that until there's another feast or banquet.  Besides, you need to learn and perfect many basic techniques before you can work on such a complicated dessert," she said with a smile.  "First, let's start with smaller sweets.  We'll make glazed cinnamon cakes.  Everyone likes those."

While cinnamon cakes didn't compare with a big, fancy subtlety, Fai did love eating them, and thought they sounded like a pretty good way to begin learning.


	4. Chapter 4

 

Fai spent the next hour feeling as though he'd gone to heaven.

He now had cause to thank his royal status, when at first he had worried that it would ruin everything.  Mistress Bera had decreed that he couldn't be treated as an ordinary apprentice, and so he was exempt from the less pleasant parts of a normal cook's early education, like sweeping, mopping, and scrubbing.  Apprentices were always required to perform hard manual labor for their masters in exchange for learning their skills.  But Fai got to bypass that part.  No one expected a prince to scrub pots alongside the scullery maids or perform other drudge chores.

He had an apron on, and a cap designed to keep his hair confined, and had been made to wash his hands.  Just those things made him feel like a real cook.  Then he devoted his time to watching the pastry chef do her work, and performing simple tasks for her.  He learned to measure dry and wet ingredients properly and in the correct proportions.  Doing that, he had an epiphany that math could sometimes be useful, but he wasn't going to admit it to anyone.  He whipped sweet, creamy butter, and cracked open eggs to separate the white from the yolks.  Mistress Bera wouldn't let him use a knife yet, but he got to handle the blunter tools.

It was messy work, made even messier by his lack of skill, but he thought he might one day get the hang of it if he practiced enough.

Mistress Bera took it all in stride, but she kept a close watch on him and made him mop up after he dropped several eggs.  He might not be required to do a lot of drudge work like the regular apprentices, but he couldn't get out of taking care of his own mess.  It reminded him a little of his magic lessons.  He was often required to clean up any messes he made when he lost control of his spells.  Maybe he hadn't really been lying to the king when he'd claimed that cooking and magic were alike.  He'd only said that to convince King Ashura, but certainly the consequences of mistakes—cleaning up after himself and starting over—were the same.

After a little while, when he had proven he could manage the ingredients and tools less clumsily, he was allowed to mix up a small batch of cinnamon cake batter of his very own.  It was nice and tasty, but the spice and sugar were imported, and therefore quite expensive and not to be wasted.  Even the fine, white wheaten flour used was costly.  Though the required grain could be grown in Seresu's southernmost regions, it was a fairly small crop that took much effort and pampering from the farmers, even with magical assistance, and the milling processes used to get such a soft, silky texture were time- and labor-intensive.  Only the very wealthy ate such dainty fare.  Most people had to make do with coarser flours and sweeteners, and more common seasonings.

Little boys, even princes, weren't allowed to eat uncooked cinnamon cake batter, no matter how tempting it looked and smelled.  There would be fewer finished cakes than there should be if he ate the delicious batter, and full accountings were kept of which ingredients were used, and how much of each.  Records were kept of _everything_.

His teacher caught him with gooey fingers, and scolded him soundly.

That made the kitchen staff nervous all over again, but Fai accepted the reprimand with good grace and everyone calmed down.  He'd received worse in his birth country of Valeria, for no better reason than being in plain sight at the wrong time.  In Seresu, he was only scolded for a real cause, and he appreciated that.  Well, no, to be honest he never appreciated the scoldings, but at least no one did it just to abuse him for having been born a twin.  The idea that twins were harbingers of calamity, and even the actual cause of misfortune, simply wasn't part of the Seresian people's culture or experience, and so it never entered into their interactions with him.  That was what he appreciated.  People liked him in Seresu, and he always tried his best to never give them cause to do otherwise.

Then his gloomy thoughts fled and his whole world brightened again, for after she had decided that he was properly chastised, Mistress Bera promised him he could have a cake as a reward for his labors—but only after the batch was baked and cooled and then glazed with a sweet, sugary topping.

"Can I take one for the king, too?" Fai asked.  "I really want him to have something I helped make."

"Of course, my lord," she replied.  "That is certainly expected.  I'm sure he'll be thrilled."

Fai hoped so.  He would make sure to taste one of the cakes first, before he gave any to the king, just to be certain he had made them correctly and they turned out all right.  And also, that way maybe he could have two, one for the test, and another one to eat with the king...

He busied himself with carefully ladling batter into small pans, and then carried them over to the man in charge of the great, wood-fired stone ovens, who would take care of baking the cakes.  Baking and the management of the ovens were finicky tasks, and Fai didn't know how to use them yet, or gauge how long the different foods should cook.  Besides, no one trusted Fai with heat.  Some loaves of bread were presently baking, and the area smelled yeasty and wonderful.

It was while he was heading back to Mistress Bera that disaster struck.  Not that he'd meant to do anything wrong, but at just that moment King Ashura walked into the kitchen and went to speak with the head cook.

"King Ashura!" Fai called, excited to show off what he had learned, and didn't pay attention to where he was going or what he was doing.  He made a sudden, sharp turn to go to the king.

He unwittingly darted across the path of an assistant cook, who was carrying a big bowl of fine, sifted cake flour.  With a cry of surprise, the young man tripped over Fai.  Fai dodged aside as soon as he realized a pair of legs was in the way.  The assistant, in his valiant attempt to avoid trampling a child, stumbled and fell backward.  The bowl went flying.  Great clouds of flour billowed in the air, turning everything powdery white.

"Oh, no!" Fai said, and reached out with his magic, instinctively using it like a scoop to try to catch as much of the flour as he could.

He completely forgot that sometimes his magic surged and made things blow up.

The flour cloud ignited into a massive fireball that filled the open space.  People screamed.  In terror, Fai crouched down and protected his head with his hands.  His fingers clenched tightly against his face, his eyes scrunched shut, and he expected to be burned at any moment...

But nothing bad happened.

He opened his eyes.

A big, transparent blue bubble floated in the center of the work area.  Its filmy surface shimmered, and Fai saw a few embers glowing inside it.  They flickered and died away.  Behind the bubble, the king held one hand extended outward.  It was just like the very first time Fai had tried to light a magelight spell and instead had blown it up.  King Ashura had used the same method to stop that explosion from causing harm, by containing its fury within a sphere of magic, just like now.  Slowly, Fai straightened up, feeling ashamed for his terrible mistake and wanting to cry.

"Well, that was exciting," said King Ashura.  He waved his hand, and the bubble vanished.  Then he looked over his shoulder at the head cook, quirked an eyebrow, and quipped, "I had no idea wheaten flour was so dangerous."

Master Otso looked like he wanted to faint.  "Y-yes, Your Majesty," the head cook stammered as he came forward.  "I-I mean, no, Your Majesty, I mean—"  He paused to take a deep breath and collect himself.  "Your Majesty, normally flour is not dangerous, but when it is suspended in the air in clouds of dust like that, it becomes flammable.  It takes but a small spark or flame to ignite it.  Surely Your Majesty recalls the mill fire outside the town last year..."  He trailed off and looked hopefully at the king.

King Ashura thought for a moment, and nodded his head.  "Yes, I do.  The mill burned to the ground, and had to be completely rebuilt.  I recall a miller died, as well."  He frowned.  "Yes, now I remember it was caused by a flour explosion."

Master Otso said, "Yes, Your Majesty.  That is a common hazard for flour mills.  That is why candles and lamps are forbidden in them."

"I hadn't realized something like that could occur in Luval's kitchens," the king said with a worried frown.  His eyes flicked to Fai, and his brows furrowed.  "There are fire sources for cooking here, but I've never heard of it happening before."

"There are many precautions in place to prevent just such a happenstance, Your Majesty."

"Of course," the king said, and suddenly smiled.  "And this was quite an unusual case, wasn't it?  It was hardly a situation that normally occurs down here."

The head cook looked relieved.  "Yes, Your Majesty," he said with a quick bow.  "Thank you for understanding."

Fai shuffled over to them, downcast.  "I'm sorry," he said softly.  "I didn't mean to do it.  I was only trying to catch the flour so it wouldn't make a big mess...since it was my fault it got spilled..."

King Ashura rested a hand on Fai's head.  "It was an accident, Fai.  Don't worry, there was no harm done.  It was my fault for distracting you."

That wasn't true.  The king hadn't done anything to distract him.  Fai knew he alone was to blame.  He should have been paying attention to where he was going.  He shouldn't have tripped that apprentice.  He shouldn't have been in the way.  The king was just trying to make him feel better.

With a sniffle, Fai said, "I'm really, really sorry."  He worked up his nerve, and, fearing the worst, asked, "Can I still learn to cook?"

"You may, if you promise not to use magic in the kitchen again.  Clean up messes the ordinary way, all right?"

Surprised by the easy agreement and lack of censure, Fai nodded vigorously.  "I promise."

"Good," said King Ashura.  Rather imperiously, he decreed, "It is settled.  You shall continue to take cooking lessons."

Master Otso looked like he had swallowed a three-day-old dead fish, but wisely said nothing.

The king patted Fai on the shoulder.  "It will all work out, Fai," he said, but his words sounded as though they were directed at the entire kitchen staff.  He looked up.  "When will you be finished with Lord Fai for today?" he asked the kitchen at large.

Mistress Bera came forward and gave a very low curtsey.  "We've been making sweets, Your Majesty," she said, keeping her gaze on the floor.  "The young lord's cakes aren't yet baked, but if you require him—"

"And you are?" the king interrupted her.

She gasped and sank even deeper into her curtsey.  Fai felt bad for her.  She seemed so worried.  She probably didn't understand that she hadn't done anything wrong, that the king was just abrupt like that sometimes because, well, because he was the king and everyone always deferred to him, and his brusque manner wasn't anything personal and she didn't need to be afraid.  And the king probably didn't even realize he had scared her.  Fai always recognized those nuances because, out of self-preservation, he had learned to read people's reactions and behavior in Valeria.  However, King Ashura never seemed to pay much attention to things like that.

To bridge the gap, Fai said, "She's Mistress Bera.  She's an expert pastry chef and has been teaching me all kinds of interesting things.  She's been really nice."

"High praise, indeed.  Rise, Mistress Bera," said King Ashura.  "I offer you my personal thanks for taking such good care of Fai."

She got up, looking both nervous and pleased.  "He's a quick learner, Your Majesty."

"Oh, yes, I know that."  The king offered her a knowing smile.  "He will keep you on your toes."

She smiled back in response.

"I suspect everyone is about done with lessons for today," the king said wryly, "but it would be a shame if Fai couldn't finish his cakes."

Mistress Bera bobbed her head at the implicit order and curtseyed again.  "Yes, Your Majesty."

"Excellent."  He looked once more at the head cook.  "Bring me a sack of that wheaten flour."

Master Otso goggled at him.  "Your Majesty?"

"Need I repeat myself?"

"No!  No, Your Majesty."  The head cook made a panicky gesture to an apprentice, who scurried off.  He returned swiftly with the requested flour.

King Ashura took it.  "Thank you," he said simply, and did not explain himself despite the ravenous curiosity in everyone's eyes.  He shifted the flour to one arm and patted Fai's shoulder with his free hand.  "I'll see you when you are done here.  Remember, no magic."  And the King of Seresu swept out of the castle kitchens for the second time in one day, this time bearing a large sack of flour in his arms.

Silence reigned for a few moments while all present pondered the incongruity of that image.  Then excited chattering broke out, mostly speculation about what the king wanted with flour of all things, but there was also some quiet grumbling.

"I don't think the king is taking this situation seriously," a cook muttered.

That made Fai feel bad again, like he was imposing, and he kind of wanted to shrink back into a shadowy corner where he wouldn't be in the way, or even noticed.  He knew he had given everyone a bad scare, and was actually a little surprised that he had been allowed to remain.

"I assure you, the king is taking this very seriously," a mellifluous, cultured voice said.

Fai looked up.  In the doorway stood one of the most important court wizards, the Lord Wizard Syed D Greenstone.

The kitchen staff all goggled.  Master Otso said weakly, "This is quite an extraordinary day.  What have we done to earn such unusual recognition from the king and his court, I wonder?"

Lord Syed grinned.  "It's because you are all so excellent at your jobs that Lord Fai wants to emulate you."

Someone sighed, "Two wizards will be with us?  How fortunate.  We're so very blessed today."

"He doesn't sound like he really thinks they're blessed," a confused Fai said to Lord Syed.

"Oh, they're blessed, all right, and they know it," the court wizard said, tossing an amused smirk at the collection of cooks.

Fai digested that statement and came to his own conclusions.  "You're here just in case I have another accident, aren't you?"

"Of course, Lord Fai.  His Majesty called me as soon as the recent excitement was over.  He worries about you, and thought that all of you..."  Lord Syed glanced at the cooks again, and nodded at the looks of relief he received.  "He thought that you would be more comfortable if you didn't have to worry about such things, and that your environment would be more conducive to learning and working."

"It was really nice of him to let me stay to finish my cakes," said Fai.  "He told me before that he couldn't allow me disrupt the kitchens, and after...  Well, I was afraid he'd say I couldn't stay."

"I doubt you need to worry.  I'm sure he just doesn't want you to make a habit of blowing up food," Lord Syed said with another grin.  "That would be a terrible waste."

Fai recalled that King Ashura had also blown things up accidentally when he'd been young.  Probably that was why the king was so tolerant.  "I want to make him something really good to thank him."

"I'm sure that he would be delighted with anything you presented to him."

Master Otso said, "Lord Fai, your cinnamon cakes only need baking and glazing.  Will they not be enough?"

Fai said with a little whine, "But those are only cinnamon cakes.  They're too easy.  I want to do something really special and fancy for him."  He gazed beseechingly at Mistress Bera.  "Please?"

She bit her lips, eyes lighting with laughter.  "I'm sure we can come up with something, little lord."

Master Otso murmured to Lord Syed, "My lord wizard, I do not mean to be disrespectful, but is this wise?  So soon after what happened...perhaps this could wait until his lesson next week..."

Lord Syed gave him a piercing look.  "The king dotes upon Lord Fai," he said pointedly.

"Yes, but..."

The wizard lowered his voice.  "Better he indulge his little boy than that we all suffer a repetition of what went on during deep winter."

Master Otso looked grim.  He sighed and nodded.  "Yes, you're right."

"Rest assured that you and all of your staff will be compensated handsomely for your forbearance and extra duties."

Fai wondered what they were talking about.  He'd heard veiled references to something bad that had happened during the deep winter season, but no one would ever explain when he asked.  They just said that it was an adult matter and nothing to concern him, and that they were really glad he was in Seresu.  While he liked hearing nice things said about him, he really wanted to know why everyone still seemed so concerned about the mysterious event that had happened so many months ago, just a short time before the king had found him.

"There is nothing to worry about," Lord Syed reassured the head cook.  "I'll make certain of that."  And then he addressed Fai.  "So, what do you think King Ashura would like?"

"I want to make him something really nice," Fai said.  "I want to put in everything he likes."

"Everything?  That will be quite an amazing creation."  Lord Syed exchanged an amused glance with Mistress Bera.

She said bravely, "We'll work it out."

"He likes strawberries and plum tarts and custards," said Fai.

"Yes, he does," Lord Syed confirmed.

"And I know he likes cream and honey."

Mistress Bera said proudly, "You show a natural aptitude for creating dessert recipes, little lord.  Those things go very well indeed with fruit-based sweets."

"Oh," said Fai, eyes lighting with excitement.  "He likes saffron and pepper and grains of paradise in his food, too.  And cinnamon and garlic and cumin and blue cheese.  Oh, leeks and nuts, too.  The other night he said he really enjoyed the braised leeks with walnuts.  They were the nicest combination of sweet and spicy."

A scullery maid giggled.  Lord Syed started coughing.  Mistress Bera bit her lips again.

However, Master Otso gave Fai a truly approving smile.  "You may use as many ingredients as you like, my lord."

Fai was thrilled that he could put so many things the king enjoyed into the dessert.


	5. Chapter 5

Ashura had had a rather long and tiring day.

The situation on the border with Arimaspea was worsening, and there was only one possible course of action.  After the Arimaspi incursion into the Southlands and the atrocities they had committed against Ashura and Fai, war was inevitable.  Ashura had spent the day in consultations and reviews of the preparations, the plans for supply trains, the status of the royal army and the additional forces his vassals would provide.  Summonses had gone out to all the magnates for men, arms and equipment, and money.  The Lord of the Southlands and the Lord of Pohjola sent daily status reports via their war wizards, and were pushing their men to readiness.

Of course, the Arimaspi were also marshaling their forces.  Advance scouts reported that the Arimaspi already had a significant army marching to the border.

Ashura's ambassadors to the royal courts of Lintukoto and Thule had sent back positive reports.  Both kings were in a cooperative mood.  They were tired of the Arimaspi ambitions, as well, and everyone knew of the outrages the Arimaspi had recently committed against Seresu.  Both kings had even offered assistance to Ashura.

The Arimaspi must have annoyed them a great deal.  Ashura had only hoped that Lintukoto and Thule would agree to stay neutral during the coming conflict.  Their offer of support was welcome—and satisfying.  It gave him hope that the campaign against Arimaspea would be so successful that Seresu might well conquer a significant amount of new southern—and therefore warmer, and more conducive to growing crops—territory in the venture.

The planning was endless.  There were meetings with political and military advisors, his council, his war wizards.  A formal declaration drawn up, signed, and sent out to all corners of the kingdom.  Ashura also had to approve all the arrangements for his own travels to the Southlands with the royal army, and wrap up as many loose ends as he could in advance.  While the never-ending government business always followed him wherever he went, he wanted to settle as much as he could before he left.

He would have to break the bad news of his impending departure to Fai soon, and that weighed heavily on his heart.  He kept remembering Fai's sad little question earlier in the day:  "Is there really going to be a war?"  Clearly, the child knew that Ashura would be an active participant, and would be gone from Luval for the duration.

And then there had been Fai's unfortunate accident in the kitchens.  Poor boy.  He had had a difficult day.  But perhaps Fai would no longer be so interested in such an inappropriate activity as cooking, now that he had discovered that it wasn't all fun, but rather a skill that could only be perfected by hard work and much practice.  Not to mention the danger for extraordinary little magicians who still hadn't developed adequate control over their power.

That hope was crushed when he met up with Fai, but Ashura really couldn't bring himself to mind.  Fai was practically bubbling with pride as he presented Ashura with the tasty little cinnamon cakes he had made.  He was normally such a somber child, given more to melancholia than to ebullience, so his enthusiasm was a joy to behold.  Ashura wondered if Fai might even grace him with a smile, but as always was disappointed in that wish.  It was still too soon, he concluded with regret, for Fai's wounded soul to have healed enough for that.  Nevertheless, Fai's bright eyes and obvious pleasure lifted Ashura's spirit.

So what if princes didn't belong in the kitchen?  Anything that made Fai so happy was a special kind of magic, and should be continued for as long as the child desired.

Ashura couldn't bring himself to dampen Fai's mood, and so did not mention the coming war, or the fact that he would soon be leaving.  It could wait for a few hours...

Suppressed excitement practically radiated from Fai all through dinner in the Great Hall.  Ashura also noted an unusual anticipation emanating from Lord Syed.  That worthy kept sneaking glances at the high table on the dais where Ashura and Fai sat.  From what Fai had said, Lord Syed had taken to his new supervisory duties with good humor, but the child hadn't been very specific.  Ashura wondered what hijinks had occurred after he had left the kitchens, and if there was any collusion between his son and that particular court wizard.

His suspicions were confirmed when Fai said, "I've got a big surprise for you," and Master Otso and Mistress Bera carried a small, covered dish to the high table.

They both gave an obeisance.  With great ceremony and dignity, they removed the cover and presented him with the brightest, gooiest, _yellowest_ concoction he had ever seen.

"What is this?" he asked, careful to hide his dismay and show nothing more than simple curiosity.

"It's a dessert I made just for you!  I invented the recipe myself," Fai said proudly.  "It's got lots of things in it that you like."

"Indeed?" Ashura said mildly, glad he'd had the sense to hide his initial reactions to the dish.  It was a gift from Fai's heart, made with his own hands, and therefore to be cherished.  Nevertheless, Ashura was a little alarmed.  Only large amounts of saffron turned food that particular shade of yellow, and this dessert was so...so vivid that he thought it might glow in the dark.

Ashura was accustomed to heavily seasoned food, and saffron was frequently used in sweets, but that shocking yellow color worried him.  He wondered if it would light up the entire night sky, it was so bright.

Surreptitiously, he inspected the dessert, observing the way it wobbled in its serving dish.  The custard was lumpy, strewn with small chunks he thought might be diced fruit.  Sticky, golden syrup pooled on top.  And there were green and white round slices of...something...  Were those leeks?  In a sweet?  Ashura knew Fai was creative and at times over-imaginative.  He really didn't need such blatant proof.

Fortunately, the dish was small, holding just a single serving.  Unfortunately, that probably meant it was all for him.

The two cooks kept their gazes lowered modestly, although Ashura suspected they were actually suppressing laughter.  Next to him, Fai looked so bright-eyed and pleased and hopeful it was almost heartbreaking, and Ashura knew what he had to do.  With amused resignation, he acknowledged that he was well served for his indulgence of Fai's whims.

"It looks wonderful," he said, and beckoned the cooks to serve him that canary-colored creation.  As they placed the dish before him on the table, he said, "You say you made this all by yourself, Fai?"

"Well," Fai said, "I thought of all the ingredients that went in it, but Mistress Bera helped me with proportions and seasonings and putting it all together."

Ashura felt slightly better at hearing that.

"I used a lot of sugar and honey to balance out the bitterness of the saffron," Fai continued enthusiastically.  "It's nice and sweet."

Ashura wondered just exactly how much saffron and sugar were in that dish.  Both were imported from far-distant lands, and therefore were highly expensive and rare.  They were worth their weight in gold.  It seemed Fai might single-handedly beggar the royal household's food budget.

"It turned out well, Your Majesty," Mistress Bera said softly.  She kept her gaze lowered.

Ashura supposed that bland statement meant the dessert was safe to eat.

Probably.

"It looks like there's only one serving here, Fai," Ashura said.  Cravenly, he asked, "Do you want to split it?"

"Oh, it's all for you.  I made it special, just for you, to thank you for not getting mad about my accident with the flour," Fai said.  "I had some while I was making it.  It's really sweet."

Ashura was sure that it was.  He consoled himself with the thought that Fai wasn't likely to offer it to him if it had tasted horrible.  But then, children loved sweets.  The sweeter, the better, and they rarely noticed anything more about a dessert or other treat.  They would eat straight sugar if they could...

Conscious of Fai's eyes watching him with expectation, Ashura used a golden spoon to scoop up a portion of the jiggling custard, syrup, and lumps.  The unnaturally hued mound quivered, almost as though it were alive, and a tiny glob of—what were those black specks, anyway?—jostled against a slice of leek.  He eyed it with trepidation, girded his loins and firmed his resolve, and put the entire, goopy spoonful into his mouth.

Surprisingly, it wasn't bad.  It was dreadfully sweet, of course, but the saffron and other seasonings—goodness, that black stuff was ground pepper!—balanced out the cloying taste of too much honey and sugar.  Somehow, the leeks had been integrated so well into the whole that there was only the barest hint of oniony flavor.  He thought he identified at least three different types of fruit, and then he got an aftertaste of garlic.

It was certainly the most—unique—dessert he'd ever tried.  The flavors had all managed to _almost_ work together, aside from that garlic note at the end.  Nonetheless, he rather hoped that no one had kept a record of this particular recipe...

"Do you like it?" Fai asked, blue eyes shining.

"It's delicious, Fai," Ashura said with a smile, and proceeded to eat the whole thing, saffron, leeks, sugar, and all.


	6. Chapter 6

Fai was delighted.

Dinner had gone splendidly.  Everyone had been impressed with his brand new culinary skills and his special dessert for the king.  And the king himself had proclaimed it delicious and eaten every single bite.

Fai had never been so proud.

Of course, he hadn't done it alone.  Mistress Bera had found the right ways to make the wide variety of ingredients work well together.  And perhaps, Fai admitted, just perhaps, he might have used a bit too much saffron.  King Ashura had seemed surprised by the bright color, but it had just been so _pretty_ that Fai couldn't resist.

Besides, the king had said it was delicious, so really, it must have been fine.

When the meal concluded, King Ashura said, "Let's go for a walk outside, Fai."

At first, Fai was a little worried that the king was going to tell him something bad, like maybe the cooking lessons were going to be canceled, after all.  But they just picked up some warm coats and gloves, and strolled toward one of the outer castle walls, and the conversation was pleasing.  The king complimented him again on his dessert, and especially for the way he had persevered through what must have been a trying day.

"I'm very proud of you, Fai," the king said.  "I know it must have been difficult to continue your cooking lesson today, after what happened with the flour explosion."

"I think I upset everyone," Fai said, remembering how bad he had felt at the time, and how the kitchen staff had whispered about him.

"Yes, but no harm was done and all turned out well.  It was very mature of you to stay and keep working, even though you could have easily given up.  No one would have blamed you."

"I didn't want to quit," Fai said.  Especially not after he had worked so hard to get those cooking lessons in the first place.  He admitted softly, "But it was hard to keep going, at first."

"You did very well, Fai."

"I'm glad you sent Lord Syed," Fai added.  "I was nervous that I might do it again, by accident.  It was a lot easier after he came to watch over things."

"I should have left a wizard with you in the first place.  That was my fault and oversight, Fai.  I know very little about kitchen work, and didn't realize there were such potential hazards."

"You know," Fai said hopefully, "if you want to know more, you could learn to cook along with me."

"What?  Me?"  King Ashura looked boggled.

"Yes.  It would be so fun!  And you wouldn't need to assign a wizard to watch over me in the kitchen!"

The king was silent, biting his lips and with bright eyes.  Then he said, "Fai, I fear that would put a damper on your fun.  My presence can intimidate the servants who don't have routine contact with me, especially when I intrude upon their normal workplaces."

"Oh."  Fai had forgotten about that.  That really was too bad.  The king should learn to cook.  It would have been so much fun with them both learning together.  But at least he realized he sometimes scared people.  Fai had been afraid that the king hadn't noticed how frightened Mistress Bera had been at first when he'd addressed her directly.  Then another, even more unpleasant thought occurred to Fai.  "Are they intimidated by me, too?"

"Perhaps, but not so much as to be a problem."

"That's good," Fai said with relief.  "I don't want to scare people."

"That's an excellent desire on your part.  You need to be comfortable with people from all walks of life."

Fai thought that was a strange thing for the king to say.  After all, usually the upper classes didn't worry much about getting along with the common people.  "Why?  No one expects that of you."

The king looked a little discomfited.  "Well, that's because of my position in life.  Since I was born, I've been either the king or the heir.  My life has never been my own.  And..."  He paused, and a sad look crossed his face.  "I've never had any real choices about my ultimate destiny."  Then he smiled brightly at Fai.  "But your life choices should never be constrained the way mine are.  I want you to be free, so that you can be happy and do whatever you want with your life.  You needn't let outside forces control you.  And as a wizard of Seresu, you will probably have contact with people from many levels of society.  You need to know how to interact with them."

Fai thought about that.  There was something about what King Ashura had said that didn't quite ring true.  Fai knew his status was different from a regular person's; even if he wasn't tied to the throne in the same way as the king and the royal family, Fai still had a duty to his adoptive country, and especially to King Ashura.  Fai would never be a common inhabitant of Seresu.  There were always hierarchies in life, and he was near the top in Seresu.  Everyone would expect him to let underlings take care of dealing with the ordinary people.

But it sounded like the king wanted him to branch out from the constrictions of the royal court.  Was it just because the king had never been allowed to do things like that?

Fai's spirits sank a little.  None of that mattered, and the king's wishes were in vain.  Fai knew his life would never really be his own, no matter what King Ashura believed.  Fai had made dark promises to a bad sorcerer, and so his future was not destined to be happy or free like the king wanted for him.  Fai would one day leave Seresu and do terrible things, all so he could resurrect his dead brother...

But the king didn't know anything about that.  Fai never wanted the king to know anything about that.  And Fai didn't even want to think about that.

So he put it from his mind, and walked quietly with the king.

They went to the eastern wall and stepped outside.  The sun had just dipped below the horizon, and the sky was deep blue with a few glowing red streaks above the mountains.  A handful of stars glimmered, but only the very brightest ones.  While the weather was clear, it was also very cold, as always in Luval.  The wallwalk was kept swept free of snow and ice, but little piles accumulated in odd corners and glistened in the fading light.

The guards looked quite alarmed to see Fai and King Ashura show up.  There was an abortive protest from one or two of them, quickly hushed by their comrades.  However, they all watched very, very closely, which was really strange.  The guards stayed a decent distance away and never intruded, but their eyes followed the king's every move.

Fai knew the guards and other castlefolk didn't like him and the king coming to the eastern wall, but this behavior seemed rather worrisome.  Unsettled, he asked, "Should we be out here?  It seems to make everyone nervous.  No one ever lets me come to the eastern wall."

"Has anyone ever told you why?" the king asked.  He looked a little uncomfortable, himself, but he didn't turn back.

Fai shook his head.  "No.  People only say it is too dangerous for me on this wall.  It's very strange, because they don't mind me going out on the other walls.  They keep an eye on me, but they don't get worried or upset."

"Yes, I suppose they'd behave like that."  King Ashura gave a heavy sigh.  "It has nothing do with you, Fai.  There was an incident on this wall a little while before you came to Seresu.  I did something very stupid out here once, and upset a great many people."

Fai couldn't imagine King Ashura ever doing anything stupid.  "What happened?" he asked with rapt curiosity.  "What did you do?"

The king gave Fai a tiny, tight smile.  "I was restless one night, and couldn't sleep, so I went for a walk."

Since restlessness and sleeplessness were common afflictions for the king, and he often took late night walks, Fai only nodded.

"I was wandering aimlessly, and eventually I found myself out here.  It was almost dawn, and I could see the horizon just beginning to turn pink and gold.  I decided I would watch the sunrise.  However, I was half dead with sleep deprivation and stupidly decided I wanted an unimpeded view."  King Ashura indicated the tall crenellations and battlements along the wall.  "So I climbed up on the wall and stood between two of the merlons."

Fai's eyes widened.  "Oh, that was dangerous, wasn't it?"

The king gave a short laugh.  "Very much so.  It provided a lovely vista of the mountains and countryside, but seeing the sunrise like that wasn't worth the risk.  That is why everyone worries when I come out here.  They remember that bit of stupidity on my part, and are afraid I'll do something like that again."

"I don't understand why they don't like me to come out here, though."

"Guilt by association, I'm afraid," the king said with a more natural smile.  "They see you, and think of me and my stupid actions.  At any rate, it's been many months, and everyone needs to get past it.  Myself, included."

That account seemed somewhat incomplete to Fai.  Obviously, nothing terrible had happened, and the king had not done it again, so why was everyone still so worried after such a long time?  However, Fai had lived with King Ashura long enough to recognize the signs and know that there would be no better explanation than that.  Instead, he asked, "That's why we came here, and not to another wall?"

"Yes.  Tonight, we're going to make some more pleasant memories for this poor, unfairly maligned wall."

Fai eyed the battlements with interest.  In the wake of the king's explanation, they had acquired an intriguing new appeal.

"Don't even think about it, Fai," King Ashura said repressively.  "It was a stupid impulse on my part, never to be repeated."

"But I can kind of understand it," Fai said.  "It would be neat to climb up on the wall."

"And a very long fall down, if you lost your balance.  Promise me you won't ever climb onto the castle walls."

Fai remembered how high the castle floated above the earth, and readily promised.

The king said, "You can climb on other walls, if you feel that need.  But not the ones here on the mountain, and only with supervision.  Maybe sometime we can go down to the garrison below, and I'll watch you climb there.  That way, if you fall, I can catch you."

That seemed like a good idea.  Fai couldn't deny that the idea of climbing on a castle wall and standing among the battlements was very appealing.  He knew they were for defense, and that swordsmen, magicians, crossbowmen, and archers used them for protection while fighting.  Even though Luval Castle had not been attacked in living memory, the battlements and armaments were well maintained and kept in a state of readiness.  One day, Fai vowed, he'd help defend Seresu, too, so he needed to be familiar with how its various castles were fortified.

That brought his mind to thoughts of the brewing troubles with Arimaspea, and of the king's inevitable participation in the coming war.

"Are you going to the Southlands soon?" he asked softly.

King Ashura looked surprised, but he quickly hid that expression.  "You are far too perceptive, child."  He gazed out over the wall.  "I will be leaving in a few days."

Fai hated hearing that confirmation.  "I wish you didn't have to go."

"I rather wish that, as well.  But there is no choice."  The king looked resigned as he said that.  Resigned and sad.

He looked that way an awful lot.  It made Fai sad, too.

Then Fai had a brilliant idea.  "Take me with you!" he said.  It was only right.  The Arimaspi had hurt them both, so Fai felt he had a personal stake in the coming war.  And he could stay with the king.  They wouldn't have to be parted, and Fai could keep an eye on him to make sure nothing bad happened to him.

The king looked positively shocked.  "Absolutely not!" he stated emphatically.

"But I want to go with you."

King Ashura's expression softened.  "A battlefield is no place for a child."

"I can stay in Lord Taishakuten's fortress," Fai wheedled.  "That would be safe, right?  It's one of the strongest castles in the entire kingdom.  You've said so, yourself."

"The Southlands will be safe for no one if the war goes ill for us."

"But—"

"That's enough, Fai.  This discussion is over."

Fai sulked at being cut off so abruptly.  "Whatever," he muttered, folding his arms and kicking at the stone walkway.

"This is not why I brought you out here," the king said, sounding aggrieved.

"Why did you bring me out here?"  Fai remembered how the king had just said something about making pleasanter memories for everyone on this wall.  "What are we going to do?"

"The little mishap in the kitchen today gave me an interesting idea.  I thought we'd experiment with it."

The king called it a little mishap?  That horrible, embarrassing, awful explosion that proved that Fai still could not always control his magic?  "You mean, when I blew up a cloud of flour?" Fai said.

"That is exactly what I mean."  The king grinned.  "Desserts and explosions.  You've turned out to have quite an affinity for wheaten flour, haven't you?  Maybe a big clump of flour should be your special talisman, rather than a shiny magical gemstone."  King Ashura grinned again and tweaked the tip of Fai's nose.

Fai rubbed his offended nose and scowled at the king.  "That's not a very nice thing to say."  But it also pleased him.  Fai didn't really mind this kind of teasing.  He rather liked it.  It had taken him a long time, but he finally understood that teasing could be nice, a sign of affection.  In Valeria it had been done to torment him, but in Luval, only people who liked him teased him, and it was always done in a gentle manner.

"You said we came out here to do something good," Fai said.  "What's good about blowing up flour?"

"Oh, come now.  Explosions can be great fun."  The king added with a smirk, "In the proper setting, that is."

Fai felt magic flow as King Ashura drew some spell runes in the air and apported a large sack of flour into his hands.

"Ew," said Fai, wrinkling his nose at the sight of his recent nemesis.  It looked like the same sack the king had taken from the kitchens earlier.  Fai wondered if more teasing was coming his way.

"I honestly didn't realize there could be a flour explosion in the castle kitchens," the king said, "and I apologize again for not taking better precautions from the beginning."  He regarded the sack speculatively as he unlaced and opened up the top.  "A pity wheat is so difficult to grow in Seresu, even in the Southlands, and so expensive to import and mill.  Flour bombs would make marvelous weapons.  But then, I believe other kinds of milled flours are cheaper and are also combustible.  It's something to consider."

"You want to use flour to blow up the Arimaspi?" Fai said.  It was one of the weirdest ideas he'd ever heard.  "It would sure surprise them."

"That it would.  But it doesn't seem a terribly practical way to make war."  

"So what are we going to do with the flour?" Fai asked.

"This," said King Ashura, and he flung a large handful of flour over the wall.  He blew a long exhalation at it.  The flour floated above the wall and out a good distance away from the castle.  It hung motionless, suspended by the king's magic high enough in the air to be easily seen.  "Now, watch this," he said gleefully, and sent a tiny surge of power into the dusty flour cloud.

The flour erupted into a brilliant, roaring fireball.  It was a spectacular flare of yellow light and flames, and gone in an instant.

"Oh," said Fai, enraptured.  "Oh, that was really neat."

"Now it's your turn."

"Mine?  But, what if I—what if I don't do it right?  What if it blows up?"  Fai was nervous again.  He thought he didn't dare try to manipulate a flour cloud with his magic.  He'd probably set it on fire before it got far enough away.

"It's supposed to blow up."  The king seemed awfully pleased with this destructive game.  "Oh, yes, I see," he said with belated comprehension.  "Don't worry, Fai.  I'll direct the flour at first.  When it's at a safe distance, you can practice moving it around and shaping it.  And if it catches fire, we get a pretty fireball.  In fact, I want you to blow it up.  You can learn firsthand how to feel the differences in using your magic."  He looked thoughtful.  "I wonder if there is anything we can add to the flour to make different colors..."

"Is this a magic lesson, or just a game?" Fai asked.

"Both," King Ashura admitted.  "And it's also a show for the castlefolk.  It'll give them something lighthearted and entertaining to associate with this wall.  Now, try this one."  And he flung another big handful of flour over the wall and blew it out quite a ways away.  "See if you can form it into a sphere."

Fai concentrated really hard on the amorphous cloud, and it flashed and burned and shot off a flurry of crackling sparks before it vanished.

"Oh, that was excellent, Fai," said the king, smiling broadly.

"But it blew up before I could shape it."

"It will take some time and practice for you to learn how much power to use on something as touchy as a flour dust cloud.  This is just the beginning.  Besides, didn't you like seeing it ignite and burn like that?  Wasn't it pretty?  This is a fun way for you to learn, and perfectly safe."

"You just like the fireworks," Fai accused him.

"Everyone likes the fireworks," King Ashura said.

Fai looked around and realized all the guards had relaxed, and were watching the games with pleased smiles.  The king's plan to supplant all the bad memories about the eastern wall seemed to be working.

Besides, Fai was discovering that he did like making the flour burn and flare up like that.  It was fun, just like the king had said, and also kind of exciting.  Even better, there was no fear or guilt associated with this game.  And Fai knew that when he got the hang of it, he wouldn't ever need to worry about causing another explosion in the kitchen.

"Can I do it again?" Fai asked.

 

***** end *****

_December 2012_

 


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